


a toast for the scumbags

by filthycasualsmark (exalteranima)



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Airports, Backstage Politics, Bittersweet Ending, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Hugs, Male Friendship, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 13:27:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11231952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exalteranima/pseuds/filthycasualsmark
Summary: "They don'townyou."Finn opens up about his hopes and fears to his best friend Zack.





	a toast for the scumbags

**Author's Note:**

> Random friendship oneshot where I try and work through the frustrations I'd been having with WWE lately. I made the mistake of listening to Kanye West's "Runaway" while working on this, hence the title.

Finn idly bobbed his head in time with the music blaring over the airport speakers, humming along to what little he could understand of the lyrics. It was just before midnight, the chilly London air seeping through Finn's peacoat as he sat in the waiting area of the international flights terminal. His flight back to America wasn't for another four hours or so, the man at the check-in counter contrite and apologetic as he announced the delayed departure time due to poor weather conditions.

Unlike his fellow passengers, Finn didn't mind the delay at all. He had a friend coming in who was due for a 3:15 flight to Tokyo, and Finn left all his bags save for his carry-on back at the VIP lounge for safekeeping. His friend should be arriving any moment now, if his latest text was any indicator.

"Well, if it isn't Mister Bálor Club himself."

Finn broke out in a wide grin as he caught sight of an approaching Zack Sabre Jr., luggage in tow and wrapped in a gray Suplex Apparel hoodie.

"Zacky Three Belts," Finn laughed as he and Zack embraced in greeting. "You really didn't have to go out of your way, you know. You still got your plane to catch."

"You really think I'd just fly off without saying goodbye to my best friend in person?"

"We just saw each other weeks ago. Or is New York a distant memory to you?"

Zack shrugged. "We're wrestlers. Free time doesn't come cheap. Gotta take what you can get."

Finn and Zack each bought a bottled water at the airport concessions before occupying an empty row of seats facing a large window, giving them a clear view of the jets taxiing on the tarmac and the ominous clouds covering the night sky. They caught up on everything from recent matches to cities toured to Zack's current New Japan run, which turned into them commiserating over their mutual disdain and grudging respect for Taichi.

The longer they sat together, the more Zack noticed a listlessness in Finn's actions. The jittering of his right leg, the fidgeting with his hands, the mundane tangents just for the sake of breaking the silence, the faraway stare and reluctance to make direct eye contact. 

"Something's been bothering on you," Zack said. "I can tell. What's on your mind?"

Finn hesitated, then turned to face Zack with his small, wistful smile. "It's, uh, a bit dumb..."

"I promise I won't laugh. Shoot."

"Yeah... I don't know if you watch my segments on Raw–"

"Of course I watch you on Raw. You're practically the only reason I still follow that train wreck."

"I'm the only reason? Not your real American daddy, Kurt Angle?"

Finn giggled as Zack rolled his eyes and lightly punched the older man in the arm. 

"I'm serious, what was that you were saying about Raw?" Zack asked.

"You remember that segment from weeks back? The one right before I fought Reigns in that rematch?"

"Yeah? What about it?"

"Well..." Finn released a long and deep sigh. "When Roman said I didn't have a 'killer instinct' or whatever? I don't think those were his words. I think they were Vince's."

Zack's eyes widened, his grip on the bottle growing shaky as his hands got clammier. "Finn–"

"Zack, I know what you're gonna say, but that's just how things are. It's fucking Vince McMahon, that's how it is."

"But you're not really gonna sit back and do nothing while they–"

"Why do you think they sent me home after the Asia press tour? It's not like I'm _excited_ to be back after months of boredom in rehab. Can't have the new kid raisin' hell when fuckin' Brock Lesnar is looming in the horizon."

"But... Hunter's still got to have some faith in you, right?"

"Him and the other boys in the back." Finn took another sip from his bottle. "Not that it counts for much, when you're up against the one man who could literally rewrite the entire WWE if he wanted to. I'm not dumb, Zack. I still remember what happened to Barrett."

Zack winced at the mention of their former Hammerlock colleague. "Finn, that's not gonna be you, alright? They'd be idiots to let that happen. You're great in the ring, people love you, you work hard, you've got the Demon–"

"Yeah, that's another thing. Everyone keeps asking me, over and over. When is the Demon coming back? When are you gonna use it again? Everyone can't wait to see it, but..."

The empty plastic bottle crinkled in Finn's hands as he squeezed its sides. "I'm not so sure I can do it anymore. It's like there's never a right time to bring it back. Like I can't trust myself with it, but I can't trust myself _without_ it either. I think at some point the Demon stopped being a gimmick and became... I don't know. Maybe a crutch or something."

"It's still a part of you," Zack insisted. "It's yours. You created it. You loved it. You shared it with the fans so they could love it too. You can't let other people ruin that, take that from you."

"You'd be surprised, the things the 'E can give or take."

"They don't _own_ you, Finn."

Finn didn't miss the pained scowl on Zack's face, the wetness building in his eyes. Tears of sadness? Anger? Indignation? Helplessness?

"Aww Zacky," Finn cooed with fondness as he pulled Zack into a hug, the younger man's face buried in his shoulder. "Still got that bleedin' heart beating in your chest."

"You deserve so much better than this," Zack muttered into his shirt. Finn admired his conviction, the core of solid steel in his deceptively gentle voice. "Gedo, Smallman, Dallas, all of them would take you back in a heartbeat. Companies would be lining around the block to book you–"

They were interrupted by the beeping of the intercom, a woman's voice announcing the boarding call for Zack's flight.

"Hey, don't you worry about me, alright?" Finn let go of their hug, patting Zack on the back. "I'm a big boy with big boy problems. I can take care of myself. You just go out there and be Zack Sabre Jr., go and win every damn title belt you can get your hands on."

Zack chuckled at Finn's words of reassurance, ignoring the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He laid a heavy hand on Finn's shoulder. "You too, Demon King. Real Shooter. Rock 'n' Rolla. Don't let the bastards get you down."

They reluctantly got up and walked to the security checkpoint where they would separate, Zack shouldering the strap of his backpack and rolling his suitcase in the direction of his flight's gate. Finn watched him walk away for several seconds before the younger man turned back around to face Finn, holding up his hand for a goodbye wave.

No, not a wave. A Too Sweet.

Finn shook his head in laughter, knowing full well how silly Zack thought the Too Sweet was. He held up his hand and returned the gesture, his heart the lightest it's felt in weeks.

 


End file.
